May 20th, 2009


Today has been ok. went to Pathways looking for a better job (applied to be a library assistant) and it was suggested i put a photo on my CV. Regular readers (oh i love it when i talk like i have regular readers...) will know that i can't stand my reflection, hate photos of my face, especially when i smile, and that none of that is fishing for a compliment, it really is my fucked up brain. I can't think of anything i'd like less than people who i'm hoping will give me a job seeing a photo of me because in my head they wouldn't even give me an interview, because (on a good day) "I'm too weird looking", or (on a bad day) "they'll be able to see I'm a terrible person", or (on a really bad day) "they'll look in my eyes and they'll see that my soul is rotten".

I spent the whole day wondering if I could work out how to airbrush the scars around my mouth (which no one except the voice in my head) out of a photo, how quickly I can get all the horrible moles on my neck removed, or even pay someone to make me look half decent in a photo. As you can probably tell i was giving rather too much obsessive thought to an off the cuff suggestion by an employment advisor.

Then I checked my email - on fatshionista  i posted a link to my tattoo folder on flickr as someone was talking about getting their upper arm tattoo and wanted to know how other fat people found the experience, and if it changed what they wore etc. Someone I've never come across before just sent me this message.

"YOU are stunning. The smile in your photos made me grin from ear to ear."

I have been weeping quietly ever since. It's like someone's watching out for me. But not in the paranoid 'Oh fucking hell, I'm being videoed by those CCTV cameras, that police car is following me" way I thought before.